Stuck
by Donteatacowman
Summary: Danny's stuck in the Thermos again. Usually, someone'd let him out soon enough, right? But this time, everyone he knows has died! Oh crap! What's our protagonist gonna do? Stew over his angst and anger, that's what. For the DP Day o' Angst.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. This is a fan work and I have made no monetary or material gain from it._

_A/N: For the Danny Phantom Day o' Angst. It's not 1000+ words. So shoot me. xD_

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Danny sat.

No, not sat, really, it was more of a floating. Or a squishing-of-himself-together. Maybe just existing. Yeah, that was more accurate.

Danny existed.

Which, if you thought about it, was itself a miracle, considering exactly what he was. But that wasn't the direction of his thoughts. They were more along the lines of "How do I get _out_ of this stupid Thermos?!"

This cursed Thermos—oh, why oh why had his parents decided that a _thermos_ of all things would be a suitable containment unit for the undead? Jazz used to accidentally suck him in here, he remembered. "Used to," yeah. How long ago had it been? How long since he was just hanging out with Sam and Tucker, laughing at video games, making fun of the Box Ghost? It had been a while, he was certain of that. A long while.

Danny punched the confines of the Thermos again. Geez, how long could a guy stay in this thing without going insane?

Maybe he already was. Insane, that is.

It hadn't always been easy back then. Some of the ghosts were the kind that would kill you with a smile on their face, the kind he'd always felt obliged to fight… for the good of the town, _right_. He almost snorted.

Knowing what consequences his actions had, if he could, would he do it all again? Would he still play the hero, fight someone else's battles, all the while knowing the terrible danger it gave to all his friends, his family, to every person he came in contact with?

Knowing that it led to their death?

Of course his first instinct would be to say, "Heck no!" but this wasn't his first instinct anymore. Oh no, Danny'd had all the time in the world to ponder this.

And he eventually came to a decidedly different conclusion.

Danny missed them sometimes, sure, _so_ much. He'd wasted so many days doing whatever kept him feeling at all alive, even though he knew he'd really died as soon as they did… He spent many evenings alone, imagining beside him Tucker making inane jokes, Sam snarking at him like the Goth she was, Jazz nagging at him for one reason or another. The emptiness when they had gone had been completely and utterly devastating. And Sam… he'd really liked her. Maybe even loved her. _Well, too late for that now._

So maybe he was a little bitter.

Danny'd grown, though. He'd gotten over their deaths the best way he knew how. He became stronger, more mature, more powerful. He was now the most feared ghost in the entire Ghost Zone.

Not that that'd helped him in the end…

Danny remembered his last battle, the one that ended with him in this stupid Thermos. For the second time in his life, he had completely lost a fight.

He'd get out of this thing somehow. Danny Phantom was _not_ a loser, no, all those kids at school, Spectra, even Jazz, they were wrong. Danny was a winner, and a fighter. Someday he'd get out of this, and he'd beat the jerk who caught him, even if it took him all eternity.

He was getting too angry. Better to channel that energy into something more productive. He kicked the Thermos's side again, harder this time, fuming.

Danny'd had time to think it over. Eventually the answer came to him: yes. Yes, he'd do it all again, exactly the same way. He was strong like that now. He ignored the ectoplasm-laced tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He was _not_ crying. He was not that weak anymore. He didn't miss anyone: Friends and family had made him _soft_ and he hated them for it. He hated them all…

Danny gave a shuddering sigh and slid down to the bottom of the Thermos in misery. He knew in the pit of his heart that he'd do it all again. And he wouldn't regret it one bit. Right?

He propped his knees in front of him and buried his head in his arms. He was lying, he was a dirty liar. Danny missed them all, _so_ much. But he hated them more. So he guessed it all amounted to the same.

It was his fault they'd died, after all, and he didn't regret it a bit. And this time Danny _was_ being honest.

And if his past self thought he could change his future?

Well. He'd just have to find out the hard way, then, wouldn't he?

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_A/N: Did I getcha? :D_


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